


Speaking From The (Love) Heart

by tinknevertalks



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Discord has a lot to answer for, F/M, Fluff, Lovehearts, Post Series, oxford era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17780153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks
Summary: In university, someone leaves Helen some sweets. In the 21st century she discovers who.





	Speaking From The (Love) Heart

**Author's Note:**

> The Sanctuary Discord channel has so much to answer for, this fic being one of those things. This isn't as angsty as I thought it would be, but I think that's part of preggo brain so yeah. Kinda fluffy times ahead! Whoop!
> 
> Any/all mistakes are mine (so if you catch any, please let me know). Tell me what you think, and I hope whatever you're doing today is amazing. (I'm currently eating Maltesers and watching unboxing vids - yas!)

Something was different in the room. Helen couldn’t say what exactly, but the papers on the desk were tidier, her journals were stacked and -- “Ah. What’s this?” A little white paper bag lay on the books, the edges curled beneath it so it looked like a lumpy pillow. With only a little hesitation, she opened it.

Inside were a dozen disk shaped sweets, smelling fizzy and chalky at the same time, waiting to be eaten. As she pulled one out, she realised what they were. “Conversation lozenges? Who…?”

_Be mine_ read the first one.

_I love you_ read the next.

_Kiss me_ the third.

Each little lozenge had a tiny note, and Helen couldn’t help smile as she read them. Whoever had left them had wanted to stay anonymous, but she started pondering on who that person could be. She had a fair idea, but without any evidence she was loathed to say anything. So, with a smile, she took one and ate it, putting the others back.

The rest of the day was spent in a haze of science and mystery, watching for any clue that could uncover her secret admirer, delighting in the unknown. Both John and Nikola mentioned her smile (although Nikola was much more backhanded in his compliment, delivered quietly an hour after John’s, “You look positively radiant,” whilst they waited on an experiment), but neither asked why. Neither asked anything remotely to do with those little sweets.

Retiring to her dorm, bidding Matron a fond goodnight, Helen opened up her bag of hearts. Logically she knew she should be more suspicious of the package, but emotionally she thrilled at being wooed so covertly. They had written novels on the subject, a woman delighting in being the object of a man’s affection, and usually she’d scoff at the thought, but today? Tonight? Readying herself for bed, she vowed to discover the identity of her admirer.

\--

They were in London, Helen meeting with Declan and the smattering of Heads that ran the remote, under the radar European sanctuaries, with Nikola in tow. He disappeared almost instantly, but that was normal for him. Helen knew he’d show his face by dinner time - he wouldn’t miss the wine, even if it meant having to play nice with the children.

After dinner (complete with a delightful pudding of chocolate mousse - Declan flushed, explaining how two of his younger staff were in the middle of a cooking-making-baking frenzy, and she really should have been here for the cheesecake last week), and some lighter reports read in the library, she finally retired to her room. As she crossed the threshold her eyes narrowed. 

Someone had been in here.

Had it been a guest suite she might not have noticed, but this was her suite, kept immaculate since she moved to Old City and aired when she had business in London. And whoever had been in had not been the cleaner. Sniffing as she stepped into the room, her shoulders dropped as she recognised the scent. “You'll be the death of me, Nikola,” she muttered, striding to her desk. Whatever had been her plan was instantly derailed by the tube on her journal. “Love Hearts,” she breathed, picking them up. Opening the tube, the smell instantly rekindled the wondrous, ponderous feeling she’d had all those years ago.

There, at the top, _Be Mine_.

Rolling her eyes indulgently, she popped it into her mouth. She never did discover the identity of the first anonymous gift giver, but if this tube was anything to go by, or the door closing quietly with the aroma of wine and fresh electricity wafting around her room, she had a fair idea. “You’ve always liked breaking into my rooms,” she whispered, not turning around.

“Only when I needed to,” he argued, as quiet as her whisper.

“You needed to leave sweets in my room?” She didn’t turn fully, just looked over her shoulder at him. His eyes were wide as he nodded, a motion she copied. “Even in Oxford?”

“Even in Oxford,” he repeated, walking up to her.

She nodded, and turned suddenly. In her hand she held the tube of Love Hearts, offering the open end to him. Wordlessly, he took one, holding it long enough to read before smirking. Helen wanted nothing more than to wipe the look away, still much preferring his smile to any of his other expressions. She soon understood the why of his smirk, reading the same sweet held in between his thumb and forefinger. Arching her brow, leaning closer, she murmured, “Are you asking me, or commanding me?”

He only shrugged, holding her gaze as she closed the gap and sucked both sweet and digits into her mouth. “He--Helen…”

“Kiss me.”

His lips on hers made her dizzy, his fingers deep in her hair cradling her head as his tongue met hers, the fizzy sweet passed between them. Wrapping her arms around him, flattening her body against his, she grinned when he growled, frustrated. “Bloody… candy,” he muttered, chewing quickly as she walked them to her bed, her hands claiming his tie as her kisses littered his neck, her teeth nipping his tendons.

“I take it you wouldn't like another?” she panted, his magnetism making quick work of the invisible zip of her dress as he worshipped her neck, her jaw, the shell of her ear.

“Unless it says _Eat me_ , I think not.” His words rumbled through her, and she had half a mind to look, but the slide of her bra straps from her shoulders, the mattress against the backs of her knees, his lips on hers again, sent all thoughts packing. All she could do was wallow in the heat they created, sinking and pulling them onto the bed, eyes glittering as Nikola murmured, “I can eat you if you'd like.”

“Maybe later,” she breathed, tugging him closer by his tie and demanding a kiss. “Much later.”

\--

In the early morning light, curled up in the blankets and each other, Helen found the one Love Heart that said all the things she couldn’t. Holding it up, she smiled when he didn’t say the words back, and laughed when he sucked the known confession into his mouth. With a sweet, deliberate kiss, he asked instead, “Can I eat you now?”


End file.
